


A Tuesday Afternoon

by tripleangst



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marijuana, don't do drugs kids, just write fic about them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripleangst/pseuds/tripleangst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is not predictable, dammit.<br/>(Or the one where Liam tries smoking weed with Harry and there’s a lot of cuddly fluff.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tuesday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed some Lirry, so this happened idk.

Liam is ‘boy next door’ cute. He cares about being called this as much as he cares about knowing that the air contains just the right ratio of nitrogen, oxygen, and all of those other elements, meaning that he cares about it to a small degree. (Nobody really stops to thank the air for being airy now, do they?)

Sometimes people tell Liam they can’t tell if he’s staring at them or not because his eyes are so dark. They also ask him if his birthmark is real because it slightly resembles a heart, and sometimes, he tries to make up elaborate stories as to how it got on there. _Every man in my family has this mark. When we turn sixteen, it’s burned onto our necks to remind us to always have love near our hearts... just not in them._

Liam’s not big on lying (or being funny). He’s also seventeen and good at running. Like the actual running kind of running. He likes it. 

Yes, he _actually_ enjoys moving his legs at humanly capable high speeds.

It’s kind of exciting to win track meets, but since Liam’s gotten so good in his categories, the results are always predictable and unexciting. Like Liam.

Sometimes his aunts ask him why he doesn't have a girlfriend yet even though he’s so ‘boy next door’ cute, honest, and athletic. The reason he doesn't have a girlfriend is the same reason why he’s not interested in drinking when he turns eighteen.

He’s just not interested in vagina

or getting drunk

or getting drunk with female genitalia. 

Drunk girls themselves are okay, because he has indeed met a few of them, and he has nothing bad to say about them nor their vaginas. He’s just not interested in kissing girls is all. Instead of saying this simple sentence, he has to use “just haven’t met the right one yet” at every large family gathering. Liam might not be a good liar, but it’s the one lie he’s been able to keep. That might sound like an angsty (yet predictable) story right there, but it’s really not.

The most interesting thing to happen in Liam’s life in the past year is something that indirectly affects him. Niall is his best friend, and the guy Niall’s been crushing on since September has finally taken a liking to him, so that’s nice. Liam’s supposed to hang out with Niall and this Zayn after school, but for right now, he’s got track practice. It’s Thursday after all. A normal Thursday afternoon.

Liam does his usual laps around the track and then notices the guy with the curls from his math class sitting on the bleachers, watching the track team have practice. Liam sat next to him first semester, but now--Curls is named Harry--Harry sits in the back with Ed Sheeran, and that’s a whole other story there. 

Basically, all there is to know about Harry and Ed is that Ed is the school’s well-known drug dealer, and since Harry is his best friend, Harry gets put into the ‘notorious stoner’ category with him by association. Liam doesn't know much about Harry other than that he is extremely fit, skilled at charming their math teacher, and apparently has a ‘MILF’ as Niall once put it, but he thinks he’s okay.

When the team gets a five minute break to stretch and get hydrated, Liam finds himself spending all of his time when he should be drinking water checking his phone to see how things are progressing with Niall’s first time hanging out with Zayn.

_hes wearin the leather jacket! zayn is over!_

Liam glares at the most recent text.

_m so nervous! were watchin Superbad!_

And then suddenly it’s Tuesday.

It’s Tuesday, because Liam got jealous that Niall was hanging out with the boy he likes. It’s Tuesday, because Liam couldn't stop staring at Harry over on the bleachers. It’s Tuesday, because he went over to talk to him and Liam was able to make Harry laugh and so Harry asked if he had plans on Tuesday and wanted to hang out. It’s Tuesday afternoon, because Liam’s currently walking up to Harry’s front door, and Harry’s parents aren’t home, and Liam wants to not be so goddamn predictable for once in his life. Harry answers the door with a big grin on his face, possibly because Liam is friendly, maybe because he’s ‘boy next door’ cute, but mostly it’s probably because Liam is so nervous to be hanging out with Harry and to smoke weed for the first time, because that’s what he agreed to last Thursday. Fuck.

They make small talk by the door, and soon enough, they’re sitting in a room that Harry calls The Fort. The Fort has an old TV, a shaggy carpet, two bean bag chairs, and a red futon pressed against the wall in couch form. An air purifier sits in the corner behind a tall lamp. Harry’s shirt matches the futon, Liam notices. They both sit down on the couch once Harry turns the TV and air purifier on, the door locked behind them. They haven’t said much in the last five minutes, but Harry seems to be comfortable with silence. Liam acts like he is, too.

“This is a nice space you've got here,” Liam tries.

Harry smiles and nods in agreement, pulling a black film canister out of his pocket along with another circular metal object. “Yeah, the rug was Ed’s idea. We've been chilling here for a few months now. Mum thinks we’re study buddies.”

It’s also known around the school that Harry is Harry and Ed is Ed. They may or may not be dating or sleeping together. Liam swallows the lump in his throat in hopes it relaxes the sudden tightness in his chest. “Are you? Study buddies, I mean, or--”

“He’s my best mate,” Harry interrupts, looking at Liam with a small smirk. “No worries, Liam.”

What does he mean by that? Why would Liam be worried? Or does he think that Liam thinks he’s gay and that’s bad? Because Liam doesn't think that. Um. Liam folds his legs on the futon to sit up better. “No, that’s great. That’s great if you guys are like... you know. I’m cool with everything.”

Harry reaches under the futon to grab a CD case and a small packet of what Liam knows are spliff papers. The guilt and paranoia start to set in and he hasn't even smoked anything yet. _You’re not going to be predictable anymore, Liam. Stop it._ Noticing that Liam’s staring at his hands, Harry holds out a silver circular object thing to him that came from his pocket a few moments ago. Liam takes it and smiles awkwardly, not sure why Harry handed him this. 

“Mind opening it for me? You twist it.” Harry instructs.

Liam wonders if Harry’s acting like a teacher for him or if this is how he treats all of his friends. He does as he’s asked and now stares at two circles covered with small spikes until Harry laughs at him and tells him this contraption is called a grinder. How lovely. Harry places two little weed nuggets into one side of the grinder after he separates the leaves from the twigs and tells Liam to screw the grinder back together and to twist the lids back and forth. Liam starts grinding the weed, and now that it’s in his own hands, he feels a bit like a criminal. It’s a new and exciting feeling, if he’s being honest. “When did you start smoking, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Harry smiles softly, leaning back on the futon to watch Liam, his pants hanging low on his crotch. Liam pretends not to care. “Only a bit before I met Ed, so probably at 15 is when I started. Not too long ago, but it just feels like a long time.”

Liam smiles because he likes the feeling of smiling around Harry. “I’ve never done this before.”

”Yeah, I know, you told me that last week.” Harry smirks.

When the spliff gets rolled, they sit on the ground by the rug, the tv showing animals fighting each other and making quiet animal type noises like animals do because Harry has turned the volume way down.

This is the first time Liam smokes marijuana, the first time he commits an illegal act if the preparation for said illegal act wasn't also illegal. It takes one puff for Liam to start coughing away his life and for Harry to grin, telling him to not inhale so quickly next time. If Liam was with Niall or anyone else, he’d have stopped right now, but this is Harry, and Liam refuses to give in to his lungs.

After the spliff is roached, Harry packs a bowl with determination to get Liam high his first time, even though the chances are slim. Liam is leaning against the futon with his head resting lazily down on it, his hands on his stomach. “I don’t get it... My lungs are probably black by now, but I just have a headache.”

Harry isn’t high, but he definitely could go for a nap soon. “Your body just doesn't recognize it yet or something. Ed knows why better than I do.”

He hands the bowl over to Liam and instructs him on how to hold his finger over the release as Harry lights it for him and tells him to suck in. Liam manages to not cough or anything, but having a phallic shaped object in between his lips and having Harry tell him to “now suck” doesn't really do anything besides bring a blush to Liam’s cheeks. 

After another bowl in a half, Liam decides the only way to end this nightmare of inhaling thick smoke is to act like he’s high. The unfortunate truth however is that he doesn't know _how_ to act high, but it can’t be too different from the movies, can it? He looks over at Harry whose eyes look almost bloodshot now and figures his eyes are like that too just from the amount of smoke he’s taken in. After about three minutes of heavily concentrating on getting high and acting a lot more relaxed than he feels, placebo starts to set in. 

Liam giggles, leaning towards Harry with squinted eyes until he realizes it’d probably be too forward to crawl on top of him, so he leans back against the edge of the futon. When he keeps grinning at Harry and biting his lip, Harry tilts his head and asks him what he’s thinking about.

“...I... I _believe_ that kissing girls is a waste of time. I don’t want to do that; s’gross.”

Harry smiles, and it might be Liam’s imagination, but it seems like he scoots closer to him. “How would you know? Ever kissed one?”

Liam blinks. Why is Harry asking questions like this? He should be kissing Liam is what Liam thinks. This is taking too much time. Didn't Liam just tell Harry that kissing girls is a waste of time? Liam has no time to be messing around with such things. Liam loves time, but time doesn't love Liam. “It’s unrequited.” Liam states with finality. His eyes widen when he realizes he said that out loud and then stumbles to say the correct thing. “No, uh, but I just think that I wouldn't want to.”

Nodding, Harry may or may not have just licked his lips. Who knows these things. Liam doesn't know. This room is way too much like a room, like, why is it even here? Liam did not volunteer to be placed in a thing called a ‘room’.

“Ever kiss a lad?” What the fuck did he just say?

Liam restrains himself from bursting into pieces. “No, uh, not that one either.”

They initiate an unspoken staring contest until Harry loses by laughing and putting his hand on Liam’s shoulder. If Liam’s shoulder could high five Liam’s hands, then it would right now. It’s really sad that that can never happen.

Liam smiles. “What’s so funny?”

“Nooo, it’s going to sound so corny.”

_Yay, predictable things._

Harry licks his lips. “I could say that I’d kiss you so you could find out, but there’s a chance you won’t even like kissing me, so like, I would just make you feel even more confused about your sexuality and all that stuff.”

Harry doesn't know how confused he makes Liam feel, and that’s the one thing Liam knows for sure. “...I’m pretty sure I wouldn't mind kissing you, Harry. No offense.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you didn't have to say that. No offense taken though, thanks.”

Suddenly, Liam feels awfully impatient. “...So?”

“So.” Harry says. They both stare at the bowl. “Do you like hanging out with me, Liam?”

Harry is asking dumb questions, but still, Liam nods. “Yeah, you’re all right.” He smirks when Harry tries pushing him down on the ground, but what ends up happening is Liam rolling them so he ends up on top of Harry, and even though Liam’s never been in this position with a person, he can already tell he very much likes it. Especially because there’s now a Harry underneath him. Just something about having his palms pressed against the floor, Harry’s knees bent close to Liam’s hips, and Harry’s hands coming up to wrap around Liam’s ne--wait, shit. 

They smile at each other, and then Harry laughs softly, his eyes telling Liam everything he needs to know before Liam decides it’s a great time to kiss Harry Styles. 

Harry appears to know what Liam’s attempting to do by the way Liam’s head is not so subtly leaning down. Harry leans his head up the rest of the distance between them, kissing Liam in such a way that makes Liam’s skin want to melt down to his shoes. “That would be terrifying,” Liam concludes about his skin melting to the floor. His eyes widen, and quickly he holds Harry’s cheeks in his hands, leaning up so Harry can prop himself up by the elbows. “I mean, uh, I was--Just don’t let me talk anymore, okay?”

Harry smiles against his lips as he goes in for another kiss, just letting their lips rest against each other. Sometimes, lips need to rest. Liam’s pretty sure his lips have been exhausted up until now, because pressing them against Harry’s just feels so right, and oh, okay, that’s what they mean in movies when they say it feels so right. Because it does. It really does. Harry pulls back before Liam’s lips want him to. 

“Mmm, but I like it when you talk.” Harry grins, and if Liam’s seeing things right, there’s a new sparkle in Harry’s eyes.

“There’s a sparkle in your eye.” Liam says, a bit concerned. “Does it hurt?”

Harry stares at Liam like he just asked a dumb question. Harry should really be more concerned about his physical health, Liam thinks. Instead, Harry smirks, turning them around so Harry’s straddling his hips and staring down at him. “What colour is it?”

Liam squints, trying to focus harder on Harry’s eyes, but his own eyes just want to relax. No time for squinting for Liam’s eyes. He starts to sit up, holding Harry’s hips so he doesn’t lose his balance, and Liam leans up against the futon, his arms continuing to stay wrapped around Harry’s waist. Harry’s curious smile stays in place.

“I have to get close to you again if I want to see the colour, that all right?”

“M’yeah,I want you close to me, duh.”

Harry definitely hates him. Liam should go.

“Okay.”

Liam leans his face in towards Harry’s, concentrating hard on the colour of Harry’s eyes. Now Liam can’t see a sparkle, just eyes. Really, really pretty eyes that he wants to get lost in. He wonders if Harry would let him. He sighs, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, and luckily, Harry does the same to him. The smell of the room, the warmth of Harry’s body against his, and how comfortable Harry’s shoulder is make Liam feel like falling asleep. He’ll just keep his eyes shut for another minute.

“...Hey, Li, my mum wants to know if you’re staying for dinner.” Harry whispers, his hand gently on Liam’s arm. 

Liam turns his head on the pillow, opening his eyes slowly. This is a really nice blanket he’s und-- He sits straight up, staring at Harry with wide eyes. “I WAS SLEEPING?”

Harry bites his lip, holding back a smile. “Um, yeah, you fell asleep on me, so I put you on the futon. ...You’re really heavy when you’re dead weight, by the way.”

Blinking a few times to wake himself up, Liam checks his phone for the time, seeing it’s a little past seven-thirty. “My mum doesn't even know I’m here, I should probably go...” Looking up to see Harry pull a small frown makes Liam change his mind. “...Or I can tell her we’re working on a project together and it’s taking longer than we thought.”

Harry laughs, helping Liam to stand up. “What? She doesn’t know you’re smoking weed and kissing boys? ...No, I don’t want you to have to lie to your mum even more. But you are welcome to stay another time if you’d ever want to.”

Liam smiles, and then Harry smiles, and then Liam’s everything is all smiles.

“Just tell her you had to take a break from your normal.” Harry says, leaning against the front door as Liam steps out the front step after they debated for a few minutes about having Liam stay for dinner.

“Yeah, something like that,” Liam laughs. They smile awkwardly at each other for a few seconds before Liam finally nods and starts turning to the side. “So, uh, good night, Harry.”

Harry grins, coming down the step, and puts his hand on Liam’s arm to get him to turn around. “Wait, you.” Liam stares at him, about to have another meltdown full of meltingness, but then Harry’s pressing a kiss to his cheek, and life should just pause here for a moment. 

But it doesn't. Harry continues grinning, so it’s okay. “See you tomorrow, Liam.”

Oh, right. It’s Tuesday.

“I’ll try to be unpredictable one day.” Harry winks before he shuts the door.

Liam walks away smiling.


End file.
